Ahh...Poop...

Shawn finally pooped today, a mere SIX FREAKING days after his last bowel movement. Of course, this was after pedia.lyte, pear juice, prune juice, suppositories, more screaming than I thought anything could ever possibly scream, countless diaper checks after semi-encouraging gas explosions, an x-ray (which said, "Hey, your kid has some poop in his bowels" - so enlightening), three frantic doctor calls, a doctor visit, a potential hospital visit if things didn't improve real soon, no sleep for anyone in the family, a volatile few nights between me and the hubby, and me going insane.

Today the poop finally came. He is feeling better, I think. I hope. Let this poop thing continue, please...we love poop.

But now Jason is constipated, too.

Seriously. Who did I piss off up there?

I am incredibly sad that I am not pregnant. More sad than I would have thought. Being late does that...lets that little hope in and brings up all the possibilities. I should have known better than to hope.

I know that having another child would probably be more than I should take on right now. Then I think about my ever increasing fsh number and I get panicked. That stupid number was elevated at age 34. What is it now? I just feel like I don't have the luxury of waiting until the time is "right," whenever that may be.

Shawn is home from the hospital. Apparently, his ventricle collapsed around the shunt catheter and blocked it. He had swelling on both sides of his brain this time because of it. The doctors believe that it is a good thing that the swelling was distributed over both sides; they say it means that the shunt is placed well and that both sides are now communicating.

Whatever.

I just want it fixed and to not have to spend another weekend there.

Right now the poor thing has terrible constipation. He hasn't pooped since Friday. While he has never been an every day kind of guy, it is unusual for him to go this long in between. Personally, I believe it is because they gave him morphine after this last surgery. Morphine kicks my ass and makes me feel horrible. He hasn't had it before after one of these surgeries, and it is the only thing done differently, so that is my uneducated guess at the cause of the problem. (and I wasn't there to make sure they didn't give it to him) Of course, it could also be that his system is rebelling because they have played in his head so often in the past month. Whatever the reason, he is suffering.

The doctor gave us some tricks to try (I am paranoid of having to actually take him somewhere, so please don't let it get to that), but there hasn't been relief yet. If you have any suggestions, we're all ears.

My period started. I suppose it is just as well.

On this day last year, I had my retrieval from the cycle that brought you to me. Happy conception day, boys--I so wish we would have been able to celebrate it in such a different way.

The fourth surgery in a little over 4 weeks is happening now.

My poor baby. I am so very sorry you have to go through this. I can't help but to think that I have failed somehow. I know that I did all I could to make you whole, but sometimes that isn't enough--for that, I am so, so sorry.

I pray that this is it.

I don't have any confidence in myself at this point to know if it will be. I thought the last time was it. How wrong I was.

Isaac is taking Shawn back to the hospital now. I was so filled with hope. And now this.

It is just so unfair.

I'm staying with Jason. I am in no state to drive the hour it takes to get to the hospital with Shawn anyway. Plus, there is no one to watch him, so here I sit--the loser between the two of us--the one who can't get her shit together enough to be there for her son at the hospital.

I am so angry. I am scared to death, frustrated, hurt, and so much more. Why does this keep happening? Why can't they just make him healthy? What happened to the confident "this is it" crap? Why can't we just get more than a week of seeing him smile and be happy? We didn't even make it to the stupid follow-up visit this time.

Who did I piss off in this universe that finds it so necessary to keep punishing us over and over again?

Yeah. I need another baby. Sure.

Now I am officially late two days. My very regular period, so regular that I started exactly 28 days after birth, is now late.

I can't bring myself to test.

I can't believe I just posted that. Forgive me.

Please tell me that I am most likely not pregnant, especially considering that we had sex only one time this month and it was definitely after my regular ovulation day (day 13). I am just not that lucky. Besides isn't getting pregnant from actual sex a myth anyway?

And I am already on overload, so I really don't need to add pregnancy to all that is going on right now. Right?

Then why do I want it so badly?

I was so wiped out last night that I fell asleep on the couch. That isn't all that unusual, but the funniest thing happened.

While I was asleep, Isaac had sneaked in and had started dinner (yes, I know I am lucky). Jason was asleep laying on the floor and Shawn was asleep in his swing. Apparently, Shawn started to fuss a little. Isaac heard him but didn't feel it was a fuss that meant immediate attention was needed, so he ignored it. I heard nothing.

Shawn continued to fuss and got louder and louder. Isaac was in the kitchen, trying to finish peeling the potatoes he was working on before he came in to get Shawn.

I still heard nothing. I guess I was exhausted.

Then he said he heard a funny noise. He stopped what he was doing to come check what this new noise was.

It was my cat, Gracie. She was making a strange meowing noise while moving between Shawn and me on the couch. Isaac said it was a noise he had never heard her make before. Gracie would walk to Shawn, sit up a little so she could see him, and then meow on her way over to me. She did this over and over again while Isaac was watching her! I think she was telling me to take care of the baby!

How funny is that?

After a little bit, Isaac came over to get Shawn out of his swing. Gracie immediately stopped the meowing and went to lay down.

And I slept through the whole thing.

---

For those of you who were wondering, my mom is watching the boys for me for these last 41 days of school. It works out good, I think, because it gives her something to focus on during the day. Plus, the money we are paying her to watch them will help offset some of the finance loss she is experiencing after my dad's death (my dad worked for civil service and his pension, insurance, and pretty much all benefits he was getting from retirement stopped when he died). Thankfully, the boys have been kind to her and seem to switch off waking and sleeping so that she is only really dealing with one baby at a time. We don't know if it will stay that way, but it is definitely helpful while she is getting her feet wet with them.

Made it through the day. Just barely, I think.

God, I am tired.

It was nice to see everyone, but I do believe I had the deer in the headlights look for the entire day. I still don't exactly know the direction I want to take with my classes, and I still don't know what my students did while I was out.

I figured it out. I was out of school for 8 months plus the 2 summer months. During that time, I worked 2 full days. No wonder it was hard to go back.

The boys, of course, did fine...it's just their mother I am worried about!

I am actually going to work tomorrow. What was I thinking? I am secretly excited, but for some reason, I feel pretty nervous, too. How am I going to get my sorry butt out of bed to go to work? I am not sure how this is going to go...let's hope for the best.

Umm...probably should have planned a lesson or two for tomorrow...didn't...oops! Oh, well. It looks like tomorrow will be a "they better be glad I got there" day! Everyone has a day like that from time to time.

---

Shawn is still doing well. I don't want to jinx anything, so that is all I'm going to say for now. :-)

And The Winners Are...

Thanks to my dear hubby, who actually picked the names to ensure an unbiased outcome, the winners are...

1) K from KJ and the Kids (and it only took the one entry!)
2) Topcat
3) Karen and Kyla

Okay, you lucky winners. I need you to email me (you can find the link in my "About Me" section) with your addresses so I can get your gifts to you. Now, I have just started making them, so it make take me a little bit, but you'll get them ASAP.

Congratulations and thanks to everyone who participated!

NO SECOND SHUNT!!!!

WOOHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO TELL YOU HOW TOTALLY EXCITED I AM!!!

Ummm...did you get that?

Here is the breakdown in bullet format, as I am exhausted and want to go snuggle with my babies.

• We got down there, checked in to the ER and had a CT scan done all in a matter of 30 minutes.
• 15 minutes later, the neurosurgeon on call came down to check Shawn out (and lo and behold it was our favorite neurosurgeon)
• she read the CT scan--yes the hydrocephalus was back with a vengeance (I hate that I am right about that stuff)
• my regular neurosurgeon was gone, but the HEAD of neurology was there and she had consulted with him
• A new plan was developed. Instead of a second shunt, they revised the shunt he has again to include a catheter that goes to both ventricles rather than the right ventricle only (don't get me started on why they just didn't do that last time). We all agreed that a second shunt is to be avoided if at all possible.
• Shawn was in for his surgery within 6 hours of us arriving at the ER. When do things ever work like that? The only reason we had to wait that long is because they were waiting for the formula he had had early to be out of his system. Had I starved the poor boy that morning (and I almost did), he would have gone in even sooner.
• The head neurosurgeon came to speak to us directly and said he was VERY confident that this should be the thing that works.
• Shawn was SMILING in the recovery room an hour after his surgery!!!!!
• We stayed in the hospital from check-in to check-out a total of 27 1/2 hours.
• And the best part is that I left the hospital feeling confident that this will be it--he is finally going to be healthy.

OMG, he is already a different kid. He still has a headache, I think, which I am told may last a couple of days, but Tyle.nol makes him feel better and that is all he has needed. His soft spot is a nice indented area and there are no more funky bulges on his head!!! The size of his head has already decreased 1 cm, too (as of last night).

There isn't much more to say other than Happy. Birthday. To. Me!

Well, it looks like we are taking Shawn to the ER tomorrow morning.

Today was the first day in several days that I checked his soft spot. I just decided I was going to go mad if I kept up what I was doing before. Sanity is the key here. I definitely need my sanity. Anyway, I only checked it because his head looked slightly larger.

We called the neurosurgeon who told us to bring him to ER if we felt he is symptomatic. Geez. Thanks for the help, buddy.

While he isn't as bad as he has been in the past, his head has enlarged somewhat and he is starting to spit up his food. The food thing is what really suggests it is time. His soft spot (and the created soft spot from the last surgery) both are firmer more often, too. (strange how those things fluctuate throughout the day)

In my heart of hearts, I knew he would need that second shunt. I so wish he didn't, though.

So, I am extending the drawing for the Pay It Forward contest until after I get back from the hospital with Shawn.

Assuming he will need the second shunt, they will keep him for 24 hours after the surgery. When the surgery might be is the mystery. I don't know if they'll do it on a Saturday. I guess that will depend if he is considered "emergency" or not.

---

This puts a damper on returning to work on Monday...figures. Nothing else has gone as planned, why would work, too?

---

Doesn't make for a very good birthday, either.

Pay It Forward

On this day last year, I started this blog. Happy Blogoversary to me! My intent was to document my journey toward motherhood. I wasn't even very sure if I would keep it up (I am not always great with follow through). I am amazed at myself because I not only kept writing, but this is my 200th post to boot!



Back then, I was starting my third IVF cycle and was full of hope that I might someday actually have a baby (or two).



Now, I have my two beautiful boys, Shawn and Jason. I am amazed at how privileged I am to have them in my life.



I have thought a lot about how I want to celebrate this occasion. And then I remembered...



Way back in September, while I was at the start of my confinement to bed rest, Confessions from a Rotten Correspondent had a post called "Paying It Forward." The premise for this post was taken from the novel of the same name by Catherine Ryan Hyde and the subsequent movie starring Helen Hunt and Kevin Spacey. As RC put it,

"When someone does something nice for you in any way you don't pay that person
back, you "pay it forward" by doing something nice for another person. It's kind
of like the gift that keeps on giving."

I actually won RC's contest, so I do believe it is time for me to do my own "paying it forward."



What a perfect way to celebrate and acknowledge how much I appreciate all of the support, kind words, and friendship I have received from all of you!



So, here is what I am going to do. If you are interested in participating in my little celebration, just leave a comment at the end of this post. On Friday, I will put all of the names from the comments in a hat and draw out three lucky winners. Those winners will receive a hand made gift from yours truly...and you won't know what it will be until you receive it--it is a surprise, after all! That's it. No gimmicks. Nothing needed from you at all except a small, tiny, little comment.



Can't beat that, can you?



Okay, everyone. Hop to it. Leave me a comment, and let this game begin!

The early intervention people were supposed to come today to work with the boys, so I spent a lot of the morning and early afternoon juggling babies and cleaning house. Imagine my annoyance when they called and said they wanted to reschedule for tomorrow. Come on people. The house is clean now--it won't be tomorrow. I have twins and two cats, you know! Sigh.

---

Got a nice little letter from the city this afternoon. It appears that my neighborhood is due for street repairs and resurfacing. The project will last from next Tues. (love the 6 day warning) to JUNE!!! Holy crap. Of course my street is one of the 7 they are stripping to dirt and breaking up the sidewalks and curbs for a whole new street. While this may sound nice, it is far from convenient. The streets will still be usable when they aren't working, but they can, at anytime between 7-5, deny you from leaving your house with your car or returning to your house with your car. Won't that be fun? Maybe they'll take pity on me with two car seats in the back? I'm not holding my breath. Ugg. The mess and smell that awaits us...yuck.

---

None of my work clothes fit. I mean none. This isn't good. My tactic when stressed is to not want food, and it has caught up to me. How do you make yourself eat when it all tastes like crap? (except for chocolate, donuts, instant breakfast, and funions. I am eating enough of that "crap" for everyone who reads this blog) Anyway, now I have to do another not so favorite past time and clothes shop...double yuck.

---

On a positive, the boys have moved up to 3-6 month clothes, and Jason is working on getting into a size 3 diaper! Woohoo. I went with my niece yesterday to pick up a few outfits for them. (I do like this kind of shopping. (-: ) I can't wait until they start wearing them all.

---

Today, I am nervous about returning to work. I haven't been until now. Wonder why. I had a first day of school dream last night even. I haven't had one of them for awhile. This one was about not being able to get the kids to quiet down while I was trying to teach. They just ignored me and continued talking to their friends while I stood at the front of the room yelling for their attention. Two things are wrong there--1) I rarely have trouble getting kids to quiet down, and 2) I don't stand at the front of the room when I teach. And I don't yell very often. I have been know to, on occasion, but I don't generally yell as a rule. So, I suppose I was more worried than I thought all along. Hmmm....

---

Isaac wants to do something special for my birthday as a surprise. I cried when we talked about it. I just don't feel up to celebrating this one. I don't know if he really gets that or not.

---

Tomorrow is the day! My blogoversary...don't forget to come back to see what is up!

I made it through yesterday. It was so much easier in a way, yet still so much harder than I ever thought possible. Does that make sense? I think I must have said that I didn't want to do this to myself about a hundred times. If only things were that easy to get out of--just say you don't want to do something, and you don't. Yes, that sure would be nice.

I think my dad would have been pleased with who came and how it went. We guessed that there were somewhere between 150 to 200 people there. That makes me happy.

I have slept most of today in an attempt at recovery from all the stress I've been under. (I am even still in my pajamas at 6:40 at night.) I am pretty sure I'll have to sleep a LOT more for it to make a difference, though.

---

The boys are hanging in there. They have seen more people in the last few days than they have in their entire lives put together. That has been another stressor for me. I hope they didn't catch something from someone they came in contact with this week. I was as careful as I could be with them, but you know how that goes.

Shawn has had mostly good days since my last panic. This morning, he was all smiles and in such a cheerful mood. I want so much to believe that this worked, but I have learned the hard way that wanting something doesn't make it so.

I am trying to make myself see that no matter what happens with him, he will be okay in the long run. These bumps in the road are just bumps. He seems to be hitting his adjusted age milestones, so I am trying to focus on that on not on the what ifs. That is incredibly hard to do.

The best news with him is that his cheeks are starting to fill out and he is back to gaining weight. I might even guess that he is up to 13 pounds or so. He actually likes to eat now. Thank goodness!

Jason, on the other hand, has to be at or above 15 pounds, and I would guess about 3 inches or so on Shawn. He can sleep through the night now. The first few nights he did it, we went in there a few times to make sure he was breathing, but now it is unusual for him to wake up for food in the middle of the night. (knock, knock, knock) It is perfect timing, too, because I go back to work next week.

---

Thank you, everyone, for being you and helping through these last few months. I know I have said this before, but I think you all need to be reminded every now and then about how important you and your comments are to me. So thank you, thank you, thank you.

Wednesday is my one year blogoversary. If I time it right, it will also be my 200th post. I have a little something special planned for you all as a celebration, so don't forget to stop by and check it out.

Much love,
Stacie

I just thought I'd share that it isn't all darkness here...there is a little light. My Jason laughing.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

I know I sound like I have no hope. I do. Hope is always there, it just speaks louder on some days. Yesterday, not so much. Today...there is hope again.

My little Shawn...

Do you hear it? That loud ticking? That's the time bomb in my baby just waiting to go off.

My hopes that Shawn's latest surgery was the answer are evaporating as I write this. We are just waiting for the inevitable now...

waiting for the next surgery...

the second shunt...

my poor baby.

I am so sad that all of this is happening to him. I want him whole. I want him to be healthy. I want him "hardware" (as the doctors and nurses call it) free.

But it most likely won't happen that way.

He is still eating the normal amount again after his momentous poo yesterday, but his eyes are starting to get funny again. He is acting fussy again. He started to have wet burps again. And the thing that scares me most, he soft spot isn't so soft anymore.

I hold him and tell him to heal his head. I tell him that he can do it. He can make himself better--we can do it together.

But I know that he can't. We can't.

It makes me sick that I let this happen.

And as if my day hasn't been bad enough, I have to go speak to the officiant for my dad's memorial tonight and get stuff ready for Saturday.

If I even will get to go. I'll probably be in the hospital with Shawn.

Today was a freak out day. I am feeling a little better, but not a whole lot.

Shawn stopped eating as much as he had been at his 3:00 am feeding. He kept eating less and less with each meal afterward. His soft spot was firmer.

I was at my whit's end.

We called the neurosurgeon.

We panicked.

Isaac took the day off because we just knew we would end up back in the hospital.

And then Shawn finally pooped a poo like no other.

And it was better.

He started eating his regular amount again.

So now I don't know what to think. The neurosurgeon told us to bring him in to emergency if we feel it is necessary, but that he seemed fine yesterday when he saw him. (I didn't tell him that he was "fine" at the neurologist's the day the shunt stopped working.) Lot of help he was. I already knew that--duh, does he take me for an idiot?

So we are back to the wait and see crap.

I just hope that this doesn't come to a head right before/during my dad's service on Saturday. Although, with the way our luck has been holding lately, it probably will.

Sigh.

I am still praying that this will work for him and we won't have to get that second shunt.

Well, we are back. Everything went well with Jason except we got the first talk about a helmet to correct the shape of his head. I expected that, but still. No one wants to hear that their kid's head is shaped funny. It's a little narrow and long. (stupid evil hospital that did the shunt) Anyway, I wanted to wait until July to decide if we needed it because we are already trying to shape his head by having him lie on his back, but Isaac wants to start with it now. I am leaving the coordinating of that up to him. If he decides to follow through, then we'll most likely get Jason a helmet next month. Otherwise, we wait until July if I can't successfully shape it myself by positioning him. We'll see.

I can handle problems like that.

Thankfully, Jason's shunt is working beautifully and his head looks "good" as the neurosurgeon said.

We are being "cautiously optimistic" about Shawn. The swelling is down by half. That is the good news--and the bad news. It can still go either way. So, we wait and see on that. Please keep praying that this continues to work for Shawn.

He does have a nice shaped head, though. Got to give him props on that one!

---
I found that the closer I got to the hospital, the more emotional I got. I was worried about what they would tell us. I was thinking of my dad (I found out he passed while we were there). Once we got there, I was okay, but it was hard.

I am emotionally spent. Think 7:00 is too early for bed?

Tomorrow is the follow-up for Shawn's latest surgery. I am feeling pretty anxious about it. The last time we went in for a follow-up, we had to go back to the hospital for another surgery. Please keep everything crossed that this follow-up appointment will not end up the same way.

Just for some added fun, Jason will also have an appointment with this doctor at the same time. Now, I am going crazy that they will find something wrong with him. (and no, nothing indicates that they should find something. it's just more paranoia talking here. in fact, they better not find something wrong with him.)

---

My brother is back from Arizona. He took pictures of the accident scene, the car, and my dad himself (just in case we ever decide that we do indeed want to see him--still not sure if I actually do or not). I will eventually look at them. If nothing else, I'll look at pictures of the scene and the car. I know it will be bad. The descriptions alone were bad. I don't know if my imagination has made everything much worse that it is, though. Maybe it won't be? It will be. Ugg.

Right now, the dvd that they are on is just kind of taunting me. I suppose I should just hurry up and get it over with. Better yet, maybe I should just go find someplace to put it and try to forget about it. Double ugg.

Nothing is ever easy around here.

Got an interesting call today. A reporter from News.week called and wants to talk to me about the stuff that happened at school. Wouldn't that be fun? We've been told not to talk to the press, although the can't prevent us from doing so. I wouldn't want to anyway. I see the press covering this story as something less than vultures, so I certainly don't want to help them. (no offense to anyone in the journalism profession)

The public defender is also making his rounds of the teachers. Looks like he wants to find character witnesses for the suspect. I am okay with helping him however I can. (I do still care about this kid.) From what we can guess, the new way to move this back into juvenile court is to try and prove that the school failed to protect the suspect from the victim. I think I may agree with that, too. It is definitely going to make things interesting in the weeks to come.

And I had another good day with the boys...

I spent the day actually enjoying my boys and thinking a lot about my life.

I am struggling to find the exact word to explain how I am feeling. Violated seems right in some sense, but it doesn't convey enough. Beaten might be another word that almost (but not quite) fits. The right word is out there, but I can't seem to find it.

1. My body failed me and the babies and delivered early after a less than stellar pregnancy. Of course, that is added to the fact it had already failed me before I even got pregnant with the twins--by not getting pregnant without the help of doctors and loads of cash in the first place and miscarrying two other pregnancies.
2. My children have been sick and spent what felt like a lifetime in the hospital. Their health continues to be of question today.
3. My workplace became a scene straight out of La.w and Or.der. Two promising lives were lost in the blink of an eye and a place that I love lost the security that it always gave me.
4. My family and support system has been fractured with the losses of both my grandfather and beloved dad.

All within a matter of about 6 months.

Each of the above events would be life altering enough to cause stress. Compounded, they are overwhelming.

Still, I am learning things about myself.

My confidence waivers frequently, but I am not weak. I won't go as far as to say that I am "strong" per say, but I can and will survive what comes my way.

So what if my body failed me? I am still willing to give it another shot to get pregnant and carry another baby.

Okay, so my babies spent forever in the hospital. They are out now and I can hug 'em and squeeze 'em and love 'em all over whenever I want. And if they are sick--CP, brain issues, whatever might be ahead for them--that doesn't make me love them any less. They are my sweet little boys. They need me, and damn it, I will do whatever it takes to get them the best care possible! Just try and stop me.

Work is still a place of healing. The events two months ago rocked the school to its core. But, you know what? We will work together to create that specialness it had before. It will always be different, yes, but different doesn't necessarily mean bad. I am actually looking forward to going back for the last ten weeks of school this month.

As for my family, I am devastated to have lost my grandfather and dad. My dad and I have a special bond and I love him dearly. I think about him, and I know he was happy. He had the chance to spend time with Jason while we were in the hospital with Shawn--he loved that time. He was excited about having the babies around. He wanted to show them off...that's why he was going to get my grandmother.

Still, as devastated as I am, I am beginning to see that he is gone from my life physically, but he will continue to live through my memories. It isn't the same, and I would most definitely want to have him back if I could, but things don't work that way. I am holding on to the fact that my memories are special and cherished. He would like that, I think.

And I would like to think that there is one more person above watching out for the boys.

I can and will survive all of this. I will be stronger when I manage to make it through to the other side of this mountain. And I will make it to that other side.

It won't always be pretty when I feel what I am feeling. I will cry. I will panic. I will be scared and lose the fragile confidence I have in myself. And then I will pick myself up and move on. I have to because that is all there is to do. It is that simple.

I have toyed with the idea that I might be experiencing post traumatic stress. I am not convinced that that is what is going on, although I haven't discounted it altogether as I do have some of the symptoms I have read about on dr. goo.gle. I do know that I am still no where near as depressed as I was back in the NICU days. There is still light in my world now--as dim as it is on some days it is still there--when back during the NICU days there was none. (In retrospect, maybe taking that zo.loft the ob prescribed in December wouldn't have been such a bad thing? I was turned off by the idea of it not taking affect for several weeks. If I only knew, right?)

I am going to seek some help in the not too distant future. When, I am not sure. It can't hurt to have someone to talk to about everything, if for no other reason than to help me sort stuff out in my head. We get an extra five counseling sessions because of what happened at school, so I might as well use them. (as if 5 sessions would be enough to "fix" the emotions that event brought out)

So that is where I am at today. We'll see where I am at tomorrow.

I leave you with the song I have had stuck in my head all day. It's from Santa Claus Is Coming To Town (Animated)(ABC) December 13, 1970

Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door

You never will get where you’re going
If you never get up on your feet
Come on, there’s a good tail wind blowing
A fast walking man is hard to beat

Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door

If you want to change your direction
If your time of life is at hand
Well don’t be the rule be the exception
A good way to start is to stand

Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door

If I want to change the reflection
I see in the mirror each morn
You mean that it's just my election
To vote for a chance to be reborn

Well, it is official. I am losing it big time. Not in the general, bouncing off the wall, padded room sense. I am losing it with the boys.

I have been literally paralyzed with fear four times today. Each time has driven me into a fit of hysterical tears and panic. Every one of the four times had something to do with the boys.

It started when we found out that we would not get results from the CT scans today. The thought of having to wait the entire weekend and not know what is going on with them was more than I could take. Try as I might to not hear warning bells every time I do ANYTHING with the boys, they are there. I am constantly questioning everything from what they look like to what and how they eat. Is his head a fraction of a centimeter bigger than it was the last time I look at him? Did his eyes just slide to the left (this was what Shawn started to do before one of his surgeries)? Is he crying because he is sick? It is exhausting and scary and sapping all the joy from my time with them.

The last one happened because Shawn spit up again today. I don't even want to get into my reaction from that, although it seems that he is only spitting up when I feed him. Hmmm...maybe I make him tense, too.

I finally had to leave the boys with Isaac and go lay down. I slept for a few hours, but still woke up feeling exhausted.

Isaac says I am not sleeping. Apparently I wake him up whimpering several times a night. I did it again during my nap this afternoon. I do have to say that I am dreaming about brain dissection (what the insurance authorization called Shawn's last procedure) and medical examiner's tables. I am sure that couldn't be very restful for even the toughest of people.

And let's face it, tough, I am not.

It is scaring me. It scares me to see the way Isaac has started to look at me when I have a melt down. How I am acting is so outside of my "normal" self that neither one of us knows what to do about it. Surely this will stop once things settle down some, right?

Anyone else go through anything like this? This is all from stress, right? I am not going crazy, am I?

Shawn spit up today, and I totally freaked out. I mean not just a little freak out; it was a big, teary mess of a freak out--couldn't hold him any more, had to walk away kind of thing.

I think I over reacted somewhat. A little. Maybe.

I mean, the boy should be allowed to spit up a little formula every now and then without me going crazy. Right?

It wasn't anything like it was when the shunt wasn't working, either. This was not throwing up, it was a wet burp.

It still scared the shit out of me. All I could think is, "No, no, no, no, no...." (add a few swear words and something about how I can't take anything else)

Most of me realizes that paranoid parenting doesn't a good mother make. Still, I am as skittish as a deer near a highway. I have been conditioned to see doom at every turn. It isn't a very good feeling.

---

We took both boys for base line CT scans today. I am curious to find out what the doctor will say about them and terrified at the same time.

Oh, God, please let nothing be wrong with their shunts or brains.

I know I've been doing a lot of begging lately. Anyone listening up there? Hello? Anyone? It's me, Stacie. Hello?

Sigh.

---

I received a basket of daisies today with no signature. They are beautiful. The note talked about the boys' smiles, so it made me think it came from someone in the blogoshpere. If it was from any of you, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Much love, Stacie

I am living life through a series of checklists. Without them, I fear nothing would get done.

Insurance companies? Check.
Mortuary? Check.
Fill out paperwork for death certificate? Check.
Obituary written? Check. (Why don't I know more information about my dad than I do?)
Take care of my mom and grandmother? Check.
Answer the phone and field calls for my mom? Check.
Take Pep.to-Bis.mol? Check.

Oh yeah...

Take care of the babies? Check. Check. Thanks to Isaac, that is.

Thank God for Isaac. Without him, I would be lost with the boys. I truly am on an emotional overload, and the mere thought of doing everything by myself sends me over the edge. My sweet Isaac has stepped in and taken over. He gets up with them in the night, feeds them, dresses them, and keeps them happy. Today, he even took them (by himself) to get their RSV booster at the pediatrician. He arranged the follow-up for Shawn's surgery and made appointments for the boys to have their CT scans (base lines). And right now, while I am sitting here quietly, for what seems like the first time today, he is off at the grocery store buying comfort foods for me.

I do love him.

---

We set the date for the memorial service today. We decided on the 12th, my dad's 65th birthday. It's funny. He was so annoyed about being called a senior citizen. Now, I suppose he doesn't have to worry about it. Anyway, at first, the thought of doing his service on that day bothered me. I had originally hoped to do the service this weekend instead, but the more I think about it, the more I am glad that we chose the 12th. With the two on the same day, there will be one "hard" day to get through (as if the regular days won't be hard) instead of two. That sounds like a good argument, doesn't it? I wonder if my mind truly believes that.

My birthday is on the 18th, only 6 days after his. (Oddly, Isaac's birthday is 3 days after my mom's.) We always celebrated our birthdays together. Once I hit 21, the four of us would go gambling--the expectation was that we would both be especially lucky. We never were, of course, but we enjoyed the possibility of great riches. This year will be hard to get through.